Flame to the Fyre Chronicles 1: Black Blood
by sakhara291
Summary: Sinia was exiled from Britain twelve years ago for her fiance's crimes. She is Harry Potter's staunchest, most secret guardian. But when your soulmate's escaped Azkaban, and you must capture them to bring about their death, what would you do? SB/OC
1. Soot and Ash Feathers

[A/N: this is nowhere near my first fan fic, but I haven't written one in years, and this is my first hp attempt. Please review, and send me an opinion. I'll try to have an update every week, key word try. Also, I could use a beta reader, because I can write really confusingly, and I'd be more than willing to return the favor! Thank you, and enjoy. -sakhara291] 

Sinia Santrai was not a noticeable sight at Hogwarts- unless you were Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, or had a particular vehemence for Sorcery Blood and happened to know she was there. If you didn't look her in the eyes, she was almost commonplace. The only giveaway of the hard- won battle for her humanity were the jet black wings that rode lightly on her back, even though their crests went to the top of her head and stretched down to the backs of her knees. They faded in and out as the spell- casting suited her, though generally they were hidden with a Disillusion or Reduction charm so as not to attract attention or get in someone's way. Harry Potter had never noticed her in his two years at Hogwarts, but she'd watched him with a vigilance accounted only the insane and the murderous. She was both, when awarded the opportunity, but not tonight, nor tomorrow. After all, the only reason she had for murder was not within reach yet, and Albus had been clear. _"You owe it to me, Sinia, to do as I ask you to do, not as you wish to do."_ So she stood, waiting, the last hurdle between Voldemort and Harry. She was a Black- Blood Sorceress, graduated out of Hogwarts, long ago banned from the British Isles after she'd been set free from Azkaban. She watched the class change quietly, rubbing her left hand ring finger with a slightly absent look on her face. Sinia had lost her heart and a good portion of her will twelve years ago, when she was arrested at the altar. She knew why, then, that he was late. And she knew, now, why they'd stolen her engagement ring from her. Severus's schoolboy crush on her face had not left in the decade past, and she resented it, for every time she looked in his eyes she saw Sirius, pushing him off her wings as she walked to class, a handful of black feathers littering the floor behind them. She heard his voice, ringing back to it's sixteen- year- old timbre, _"Sinia, there isn't a deity in this world who can stop me from killing him, outright, if he does one more thing against you!" _She saw James, pushing and shoving Severus out of the tunnel, narrowly missed by the whomping willow. James voice, yelling. _"Sirius, don't lie to me, you knew damn well what would happen! And I can't say I blame you, but there are better ways to take out vengeance on an ass who taunts your girlfriend!"_ There was bad and good, and when Sinia could manage the feat, she avoided both of them, living within the shadows of who she'd been. There was little reason to trouble with living, less for dying, and nothing worth loving. The only reason she was still alive was simple. Her godson's life was at stake. 

*** 

Sirius laid his head on his paws, stood back up, paced around his cell several times, and sat back down. Peter was burning his way through a mind already warped by loss and fear. Briefly, in memory, he saw her smile, but he shrugged it off. For all he knew, Sinia was dead, Sinia was gone, Sinia had found someone else to complete her life and he was a mutt stuck in Dementor Central. The rage poured through him at this turn of events, and he shrugged that off, as well. Harry's second term at Hogwarts would have just ended a few weeks ago. Cornelius Fudge was concerned with his seeming wealth of sanity, and perhaps he should have been ashamed of how proud he was. Sirius Black, sane? After twelve years. But Peter was at Hogwarts. So was his godson, and Peter would not stop at anything once Voldemort was back into power. He sighed. _Prongs, where are you when I need you most?_ but he was partially responsible for that misfortune as well, partially responsible for everything. He had not been there when Voldemort had descended upon he and Sinia's home, fully intent on possessing the last Black- Blood- Sorceress to have been born in fifty years. He had not been there, and he had promised her. He'd failed James, Lily, Harry, Remus, Albus, _Sinia_. He didn't even know what the outcome of that battle had been. He'd been arrested before he could even apparate to his own wedding, getting arrested in his tuxedo. His mind was infinitely made up.   
The dementor reached in, opening the slot that held his food tray. Now was his chance. The bone- thin mutt named Sirius Black wiggled his way out of the prison that had held him for twelve years. 

*** 

Sinia walked into Professor Dumbledore's office, slightly surprised to see Cornelius Fudge there, ranting and raving in his typical panicked manner. She remained aloof and unreadable, as much as was manageable, stifling a grin at Fudge's antics.   
"Good afternoon, Sinia. I trust you've met Cornelius Fudge?" Professor Dumbledore interrupted Fudge's tirade.   
"Good afternoon, sirrah, and yes. We have met prior to today. You sent for me?"   
Dumbledore stilled another outburst from Fudge. "You don't keep up with the papers, then, do you?" He shoved the morning edition of the Daily Prophet to her side of his desk. She walked closer to read- all she needed was the headline.   
**BLACK ESCAPES AZKABAN **  
"So he's gotten loose, has he?" she said quietly. "I told you, Albus, did I not?"   
"You did, Sinia," Dumbledore's smile was faint, but present. "But under the circumstances, I don't believe it is a betting matter."   
"You helped him escape, didn't you?" Cornelius burst.   
Sinia eyed him coolly, suppressing a sweep of anger at the words. "I have no more wish to be on the wrong side of the dementors than you do, Cornelius," she said softly. "Albus, is this why you brought me here?"   
"We have good reason to believe that Sirius is headed this way, as a threat to Harry, Sinia," Dumbledore barely whispered these words, yet it seemed they filled the room. "Do you see our predicament?"   
"That outside of Harry, I'm the best bait you have to catch him? It's not that hard to see," she eyed him coolly. "On the flip side, that would also make me a threat to Harry, wouldn't it?"   
Albus nodded, relieved not to be forced the explanation.   
"We do have measures at stake," Fudge cut in, "to be sure that you do not threaten him."   
"Such as?"   
"If there is any evidence to the contrary of your hunting down and isolating Black, if there is any evidence of your risking Harry's life, Sinia Santrai, you shall be slotted for a Dementor's Kiss just as quickly as your fiance has been," Fudge's face was positively livid.   
Well, then," she replied coolly. "Perhaps someone should inform you that Harry risks his own hide quite well without a Sorceress's help."   
"There is one more thing, Sinia," Dumbledore stopped her from walking out the door. "Remus will be coming to teach this year, and he requested, if it was possible, that you should meet him at King's Cross. Though I would understand if you had no interest in doing so."   
"Remus?" her face was incredulous. "No, I... by all means, tell him I'd be happy to meet him. Good day to you, sirrah."   
As she walked out the door, only one thought stayed in her mind.   
_What the hell? _

*** 

Sinia calmly boarded the Hogwarts Express early in the morning, with the predawn darkness giving the ground a misty chill. It smelled late, and the train's whistle punctured the uneasy silence, as the great engine churned, lurching into a forward rhythm for its circular trek. Sinia sat in a booth in the last car, staring out the window. The staff eyed her uneasily, and she knew, but paid them no mind. She sat like that the entire trip, one leg pulled to her chest, her head resting on it. The other leg dangled, childlike, swaying in the space between the chair and the floor it couldn't reach. Her wings were spread forward slightly, so that she could sit comfortably. The only motion she made for the whole of the trip was to brush her hair, which drug almost as far toward the ground as her wings, out of her face. She was lost in thought. The thoughts of memories. Of Sirius. In her mind's eye, his brown eyes bored into hers, his voice breathed her name, his arms wrapped around her, his lips kissed hers, and she felt herself melt willingly into oblivion...  
Her recollections were forcefully interrupted by a screeching whistle, and the train began to slow. She shook herself and sat straight, pulling her hair behind her ears. Composing herself, she stood and walked towards the door. When the train stopped and it slid open, she stepped out, her step as easy as though it had been rehearsed. On the top step of the platform she turned her head and saw Remus, sitting alone on a bench. She walked in his direction, then sat next to him. They had two hours before the students arrived. He raised his head when he felt the shift in weight on the boards, then his eyes widened slightly when he looked at her, taking in the drastic changes of the decade. He'd had a schoolboy crush on her as long as his first four years, but partially out of cowardice and partially out of difference to her and Sirius's relationship, he had let go. Taking in the length of her hair, he knew that there would be no wisdom in reviving it. Looking closer, he could see scars and worry lines hiding in the glitz of a beautiful face. But her best weaponry was missing. Her eyes were glassy and her smile was a million miles away, replaced by something haunting and cold. He sighed and gripped her hand, and she returned the squeeze, grateful for the comfort. Though there had never been a mutual attraction between them, they shared a bond that only two outcasts could have. They had been friends since their first trip on the train, both discouraged from keeping any other group's company, both dubbed sub- human by everyone they had come across. Remus, in fact, had probably saved her life, as he had found her trying to hold her own against a veritable gang of future Slytherins, led by Severus Snape, literally dragging her around the car by her hair as she kicked and fought. Sirius and James had been just behind him. Thus they had met. Sinia had a magnetic attraction from that point, the air of a victim who was trying to become the hero. She'd been the smart one, the brave one. Melodramatic and self- sacrificial, cool and calculating, independent and bitchy beyond god's own get- out. He'd never thought she was afraid of anything. But she'd spent the summer in a castle, alone, with the one person who could drive her to murderous rage. The terms of her imprisonment were strict enough to promise death for little breaches. She wasn't even supposed to leave the grounds.  
"We should get in the train," she said quietly, loosening her grip on his hand. "Dumbledore will not hear the end if any student's parents see me board."  
He nodded. "Forgive me, but once we get moving, I'll probably pass out. Full moon was last night."  
She nodded, grinning sympathetically. The old warmth was still there, but the sparkle, the infectiousness, was gone from her smile, and she knew it. He offered her his arm, and they stood and walked into the train together. Old friends, good friends. He fell asleep on her shoulder as soon as he sat down. 


	2. Comfort and Confrontation

Sinia'd not been paying attention. How very foolish of her, being in a car with her charge and his closest friends, and being avoided by them completely. Ignoring them completely. She felt alone and very empty, certainly not in the mood for civil conversation. Hope and helplessness had been battling for her attention all morning. Remus was asleep, using her as a pillow, which did not bother her a fraction of an inch. But she'd not been paying attention. 

Stupid.

There was suddenly a hush and fearful aura floating around the room, and her ears picked up on it at once. It seemed as though light and happiness were being sucked out of the car into a vortex at the doorway. She turned to look. Her eyes widened in fear and her neck craned backward in revulsion. The dementor turned to look straight in her eyes.

_"Sinia Santrai, I_ am _sending you to Azkaban, you are not going to get a trial, and you will stay until you confess your crimes and tell me what I want to know."_

_"That's the problem, Crouch. I don't know anything!"_

_"Then I guess you'll rot, won't you?"_

_"Sirius will come for me."_

_"Sirius is already there, waiting for you. What a honeymoon, eh? I think I should take this-"_

_"NO!"_

_"Too slow, dearest. A Black Blood Sorceress, engaged to Voldemort's right hand man, how could you not be involved, answer me that? So, I think I've found the perfect way to consummate your marriage. The dementors will certainly make better lovers than your lord ever did..."_

_"Barty Crouch, you dare-"_

_"Miss Santrai, I do. You go to Azkaban, under Dementric Rape, until they are finished with you or you tell me what I want to know."_

Sinia turned her eyes away, away from the memory, away from the dementor, away from the pain. She nudged Remus as hard as she could. He awoke with a start, then analyzed the situation before challenging the dementor, a thing she hadn't the strength left to do. She turned to face the window, and didn't move from the position for the rest of the trip, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. Her right hand was at her ring finger again.

***

"Sinia, get some sugar in you, I'm really not kidding on that one," Remus insisted for the umpteenth time.

"Thank you, Remus, but no. I'll be fine."

"Sinia," he grabbed her by the arm, spinning her to face him, "you are either swallowing this willingly, or I can use my tongue to ram it down your throat. I'm not kidding."

Sinia looked at the hunk of chocolate. "Dumbledore force fed me nothing but chocolate for six months once I got out of Azkaban, Remus. You know that story?"

He nodded slowly.

"It didn't help then, it doesn't help now. Please get the stuff away from me before I vomit."

"Sin-"

"Please, Remus." She turned to face away from him, towards the lower stairwell, swallowing her nausea. "Come on, I need to show you your quarters before dinner."

He followed her silently down the dark hallways, contemplating. She turned into a side doorway, and he followed her, surveying the bare classroom. He'd only have a few days to prepare.

"The doorway behind the platform leads to your office, from there there's a storage room and the door to your personal rooms. Your trunks are already in there." Sinia broke the eerie silence. "The Sorting Ceremony is in fifteen minutes. I trust you can find your way?"

Remus nodded.

"Then I'll see you there. I have prior engagements." She turned to leave, then stopped, her shoulders dropping, and turned back. "And Remus?"

"Yes?"

"If you need me, yell. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

***

Sinia walked back down the dungeon hallway, her feet echoing softly with each step. She'd long ago mastered the art of silence, to the point that it was natural for her to be almost unheard in the dungeon, where an echo carried forever. She passed by the potions classroom and heard the door open and shut a few moments later. Her mind and heart, in such state as they were, did not see the point in trying to avoid the bane of her existence. More was the pity.

"Sinia.." she'd never had more distaste for her own name than when it came from his lips, stinging like poison, like fire, like a bed of nails.

"Leave me be, Severus," the tone was forceful, but the volume was low. She wished to brood in peace.

"Now," and with that syllable he used leverage against her shoulder to force her back to the wall, "why should I do that?"

"Have you forgotten, already?" She asked quietly, her hand running up the side of his face to rest her fingertips on his temple.

"Forgotten what?" His face was so close to hers that their lips almost touched.

"That I don't need a wand to kill you," she dug her fingernails into his temple then, and his eyes widened slightly at the challenge.

"Sinia, you kill me and a much worse fate awaits you. You wouldn't dare, _Sorceress_." The name was spat.

"One day, Severus," she whispered. "You will leave me with no other option but to do so. Then you will learn- what I dare and what I do not."

With that, she faded away slowly, leaving Severus Snape to catch himself from falling into the wall.

***

Sinia had slid into the Great Hall just behind Dumbledore's chair, as usual, unnoticed. Except by Dumbledore. He waved her close enough to speak freely, and she took the handful of steps necessary to stand beside him, kneeling slightly to be at eye level.

"Sinia, I resent the fact that you see it unnecessary to inform me of Severus's actions toward you. I cannot protect you from the dementors, should he say anything… indiscreet… to the Minister of Magic…"

"Sirrah…" she searched for an explanation, looking forward, as though chided by a disappointed parent. "I have to keep some pride. When they find Sirius, the dementors will have me, too. So it doesn't matter what happens between now and then, because no matter what the causes, the effect is the same?"

She looked up at him, almost wanting him to contradict. But instead she got a small, half- hearted smile.

"Astute," he sighed. "You always were. I will say nothing about any actions you take, provided that you remain faithful to our original contract." Dumbledore looked over the crowd momentarily, until his eyes found a particular point to rest. "I can't blame you if you want to see him, Sinia. I know you are innocent. You proved that to me twelve years ago, and you are here so that I may guard you just as you guard Harry. But-" he raised a hand before she could interject, "I cannot believe you in Sirius's case. He _was_ their secret keeper, Sinia."

"The more I look back on it, the more I…" she stopped, shaking her head. "I didn't see him for a week before we were arrested. The night after he left was the night Voldemort made his proposal to me. I don't know." Silence as she followed her keeper's gaze toward her charge. "He loved Harry like his own son, Albus. We babysat for James and Lily once, and he kept going on about it. How our children would grow up together, we'd get houses on the same street, and watch them play… I know his heart, Albus. Well enough to know his motivations. But this stumps me. He so disliked the thought of being their secret keeper. He was afraid Voldemort would take us both in one fell swoop and that would be the end."

"Maybe he gave away the Potters to save you?" the suggestion was tentative, almost apologetic.

"No," she almost laughed at the thought. "Sirius loved me, granted. But he wouldn't have traded James for me. He would die for me himself, but he wouldn't kill James for my sake. Besides, chronological order, following your train of thought, says otherwise. But I don't believe that's what happened, sirrah. Good night."

With that, she slid out of the room, leaving Albus Dumbledore to brood on those past events.

[bluob- okay, you got me. I am actually J. K. Rowling in disguise! *heavy sarcasm* Thank ya kindly.]


	3. Reunion

[A/N- how do you guys make this read so smooth? It took me hours just to write it!]

Sinia sat at the desk in her quarters, quill arched over a piece of parchment. She attempted to draw her thoughts into one base paragraph, for the sake of writing. It was her own personal way of keeping her head clear.

_Basic questions are being asked again, _she began._ Questions of loyalty, questions of actions. I can only tell them _

_so many times that I do not know what Sirius was up to the week before... it still hurts to much to say. And _

_knowing his character, it makes no sense that he would have given over anything about either party. I _

_remember he and James having long, drawn out arguments on the subject. He refused, point- blank, to be their _

_secret keeper on a grounded basis. He was even more adamant that I was not to be involved in the whole thing. _

_They discussed the possibility of my staying with James and Lily_

A scratch at the door jerked her out of her thoughts. "Come in," she growled slightly, returning to her writing.

_which was hardly a reasonable option then, and certainly more dangerous. The only story, thesis, or random _

_guess I can make that coincides with what I know is that Sirius, in the end, was never the secret keeper at all. _

_But then, who?_

Sinia stiffened as she felt a pair of eyes boring into her back. It was an uncomfortable sensation. Probably Snape, she mentally growled as she reached backward to massage her aching neck.

"Well?" she asked quietly, not bothering to look behind her.

No vocalized reply came, only the sound of heavy footsteps moving from her doorway to her desk, and the light click of the door swinging shut. She feigned disinterest, her intuition screaming for her to be on her guard. The footsteps stopped dead behind her, 

and a smell, definitively male, eerily familiar, drifted through the room.

Not Snape.

She felt the hands on her temples in a moment, pulling her head backward. The touch wasn't rough, but insistent, and before she had a moment to speak, he kissed her. His hands meandered their way down her neck and to her shoulders, and would have gone lower, had she not taken that moment to swing the chair around and stand, nearly toppling him off of his feet.

"Sirius?" It was a whisper, it was a question, it was a prayer. He walked up to her, taking her head in his hands, letting those hands wander back into her hair, drawing her to him. He kissed her again, more gently this time, slowly pulling away as though to take her bottom lip with him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned back in, refusing to end it on his terms. Her tongue traced across the roof of his mouth and back down to his lower teeth, causing him to catch his breath. He pulled away slowly, though not far. He was so close, in fact, that their lips still touched slightly, his forehead resting against hers, their noses side by side.

"Please tell me," his breath against her skin was electric, "that if I were to carry you into that bedroom, there wouldn't be another soul waiting for you?"

"I haven't slept with a man in twelve years, Sirius."

"Nor a woman?"

"Nor a woman."

He kissed her again, forcefully, running his hands down her back and to her waist, lingering there momentarily, then gripping her ass and heaving her upwards. She wrapped her legs around his waist in compliance, gripping his shoulders firmly. With practiced ease, he walked into the bedroom and flung her on the simple four poster, not even giving her time to catch her breath before he was on top of her, his lips grazing her jaw and down her neck, nipping lightly at odd intervals towards her collarbone. Slowly, he brought his face back up to hers, smiling quietly at the lust in her eyes.

"Did you think I'd forgotten?" he whispered seductively, one hand running along the side of her breast down to her hip. "Or did you?" The hand traced its way back up to her chest, and quickly undid the buttons of her blouse.

"Forget what?" she replied, rolling over so she was on top of him, kissing him soundly on the mouth. "This?" She traced her lips across his cheekbone till she was at his ear, tracing her tongue down the outer ridge and nipping lightly on his earlobe. He sat up underneath of her and pulled the shirt off of her shoulders, running his fingers across her shoulders and her upper arms in a feather light touch, roughening as his hands reached down her chest, then lightening as he reached her stomach. Around her sides and up her back, unclasping the bra, reaching around the wings he knew were there, but couldn't see. Sinia whimpered as his lips brushed over her breasts, dragging his teeth along her nipples before going to her stomach, alternating sharp bites with feather- light kisses. He listened carefully, making sure to try all the old spots, and most of them still worked- quite well. He made his way back up her chest and neck to her lips, where she deftly flung off his robes. He chuckled quietly, the vibrations ringing through her lips and across her body. He balanced precariously on one hand while unzipping her jeans slowly with the other. He chuckled once more.

"It could take all night to get these off."

"You try it," her eyes were glazed with lust, "and I will string you up by your hair in the morning."

He grinned, kissing her brutally and tearing the pants off. Skin against skin, sweat against sweat... his mind could not catch up with his groin until he'd thrust and heard her gasp slightly, looking her in the eyes. The deep, silver- gray irises were hypnotizing, her eyes widened in shock, and for that moment the world seemed to spin slowly beneath them. Sirius continued in the pace he had set, leaving Sinia in whimpers, her nails clawing into his shoulders, her eyes boring into his soul.

"PETER! You MOTHER FUCKING-" 

White mist enclosed his peripheral vision, and he surrendered to the sensation that had tainted his sex life for twenty years.

_"Why do you stay with him, Sinia Santrai? Surely the sex is not so good that a Black Blood Sorceress would wed herself to a dishonored wizard?"_

_The smile played. "What, you could do better?"_

_"Sirius, she isn't stupid, you need to quit screwing around-"_

_"Get out of my house!"_

_"I swear, no one will touch you, no one will hurt you, nothing will dare trouble you while I'm here."_

_"Thank you for coming, everyone. It's good to see friends... but I'd recommend you leave before the Ministry Aurors stampede in..."_

_"Let go of me! No! NO! SIRIUS!"_

"SINIA!" he felt himself scream with her, in release, in pain, in his own mind once more, holding the one woman he had loved all his days in his arms, and for the first time, saw how old she had become.

"You know," she stated, snuggling next to him under the covers.

"I'm not leaving again," he stated.

"Don't make promises you cannot keep," she whispered, looking in his eyes. "Sleep. We'll handle this in the morning."


	4. Past Flaws and Future Predictions

[A/N- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I know these are pathetically short and sparse, but my brain is…. Trying to figure out how the end will work, now that JKR has gone and FUCKED UP my happy one! So this is dark, it's getting darker. But I'll try to give you guys something every chance I get.]

"I love you."

"That was never in question, Sirius," Sinia mumbled, opening her eyes slowly in the faded morning light, staring into his eyes. The chocolate and honey mixture was hypnotic, and he kissed her gently before responding.

"I'm certain, but I haven't said it in so long... I feel like I've committed a cardinal sin, leaving you the way I did."

"Where did you go? I never got to ask."

"I was arranging our honeymoon."

"I thought we weren't having one."

"It was a surprise. James thought it up, that since he and Lily never had one, the four of us would go together. He had work, so I said I'd take care of the details."

Sinia snuggled closer to his chest, forcing back tears that threatened to fall. Sirius pulled her closer, resting his chin on top of her head, before asking his question.

"Sin... what happened that week?"

"You left Saturday," she took a deep breath, prepared for the worst. "The weekend was fine, I was too busy with the invitations to get out of the house. Monday night, I was coming back from the church... the house was glowing green. I wasn't sure what to do, where you were. I was afraid." She paused for a moment to blink back tears, and Sirius was quiet as he held her, knowing the penalty she'd pay if she were to cry. "My best bet was to go in the house. I had nowhere else to go. At this point I was getting angry... that he was in our house, poisoning it with his filth... by the time I got to the front door, I was livid. I slammed it on the ground in front of me, not even bothering to twist the doorknob..." her mind surrendered itself to the memory.

_"Good evening, Sinia Santrai. I trust you are well?"_

_His robes swished gently against his feet and the floor. Her vision bounced slightly with the heat of her anger. She stood in the doorway, rigid, for a moment, before stepping to look him in the face. Her grey eyes bored into his red ones, a battle of wills in the sense._

_"Get out of my house."_

_His grin was at once revolting and devilish. "How rude of you, and your kind is known for their formalities." He picked up a picture, Sinia's favorite, of she and Sirius at the Potter's wedding. "Why do you stay with him, Sinia Santrai? Surely the sex is not so good that a Black Blood Sorceress would wed herself to a dishonored wizard?"_

_She smiled fiendishly. "What, you could do better?"_

_"Why don't you let me try?" His eyes were almost pleading. Almost childish. "Think, Sinia. You and I, a Black Blood Sorceress and the most powerful of Dark Wizards... we could have everything. Everything! Please help me."_

_"There is nothing in this world I need," her voice was quiet, almost a hiss, "that is worthy of the price you offer."_

_"Consider it..."_

_"No. Go to hell, but first, get out of my house."_

_"Make me."_

_She wasn't even thinking when the first strike happened. It was instinctive, definitive, territorial. Magic didn't even come to mind, just rage, pure silver sparkling rage as her fist slammed into his cheekbone. He laughed quietly._

_"You'll physically assault me? Why, did they break your wand?"_

_"You fool," she whispered. "I haven't used a wand in years."_

_"Then this should be easy," he didn't stop laughing, aiming his right at her nose. "Avada Kedavra!"_

_The light was at close range, so it was a near miss, as her energy harnessed and pulled that green light, using physical motion to capture it, she thrust her hand to the side, causing the curse to punch a hole through the wall. She could feel the strength, hers, his, the house's, shooting through the room like wildfire. It ran up and down her arms, her legs, her torso, and the shots rang out, in the proverbial fashion. Though wizard- sorcery dueling was very lenient in the Sorcerer's favor._

"I was in the emergency ward of St. Mungo's for four days after that," she whispered, finishing. I didn't hear about James and Lily, and as far as I knew, the wedding was still on. Nobody told me. Then, when I stepped into the chapel, and all of you were missing, I knew. They sent ten Aurors after me almost the minute I told everyone there wouldn't be a wedding."

"They sent you to Azkaban?"

"Four months," she sighed. "Dementric Rape. Barty Crouch told Dumbledore it was for my protection against Voldemort, but the truth is he thought that I could give him information. How could I be innocent marrying the guilty?" She chuckled quietly, and Sirius winced. "Dumbledore was livid when he found out, and most of the Ministry with him. By that time, I was all but dead, physically and mentally. I was in St. Mungo's for a year and a half."

"Yeah... I remember hearing you screaming."

"Keayalnea beat into me for that," she whispered. "You know the SphynxFyre code."

"You weren't exempt?"

"Never. Were you their secret keeper, Sirius?"

"He buried his face in her hair, stifling his urge to scream in frustration. "No, I wasn't, I wasn't.." He looked her in the eyes, tears flowing. "Believe me, Sinia."

"Always," she whispered, wiping the tears off his cheeks.

"I convinced them to use Peter, that we were... Voldemort would have guessed us. It would have caused us more grief. We discussed putting you in hiding as well, but it wasn't possible. We had charms and our own strengths. Sin... when I heard about you, about what happened, the first thing I did was run home. I kicked myself in the ass for not being there. I should've. I'd promised you..." he stopped to breath, crying into her shoulder. Her face contorted with her own emotional hurt. "I thought you were dead. James found me and made me stay with them for a few days. He promised you were fine, but he wouldn't say where you were. Just that I'd see you on the altar. He told me to leave, to finish all our plans, and that night he was attacked. I went running after Peter. I found him the day of our wedding. I was going to settle this and come find you... we had to get out. We were getting framed... Peter faked his own death, Sin. He's here. At Hogwarts, as the Weasley's pet rat."

She lay quietly in his arms for a moment, looking at the ceiling, then looked in his eyes.

"So how are we going to kill him?"


	5. Padfoot's Blackwings

Sinia did not really know what emotion she should put down at the moment. Obviously,  he was feeling one, she just didn't know what. Or maybe she truly was, for the moment, unfeeling. She smiled quietly. Heartlessness was a trait that Keayalnea, the Zenith of SphynxFyre and a close friend of hers, had never taught her to use. She envied it. Her weak point was Sirius, and she was not foolish enough not to know it- it had long been a topic of discussion within the Fyre. She'd been Saved, tied to Sirius's keeping just as she'd been tied to Keayalnea before. She tried to comprehend the weight on the shoulders of the White- Blooded Sorceress, being responsible for the actions of every Sorcerer and Sorceress in existence. But Kea's personality thrived under challenge, and Sinia knew that, were the woman to find herself in love, she'd slaughter the man before admitting it. Sinia grudgingly agreed with her views of how the saved were a weak point in SphynxFyre's resolve, but there were no longer enough Sorcery- born in the world for it to continue without them. And no one dared argue with the Zenith, for what she spoke was the simple truth, and her actions were all for the sake of her people. Still, looking out the window, Sinia wondered if life could be any different. She and Sirius had only truly been together in the dark- not even James had known of their relationship for a long while, and neither of them exactly paraded around the school with the information. Most of those that did had not known how far it went, or how involved it was. She'd never said anything about anything he'd ever done, whether she approved it or not. She sighed once more, frustrated. Sirius was the weak point in her entire character, it was the threat of ruination in Keayalnea's exquisitely detailed plans. It was a plan that was subject only to human error, as most are, highly flexible, and several more years in the researching and implementing. She was to be placed in the center of it, and Sinia knew that the piercing glares Kea sent her way when no one was looking were threats, threats on her own weakness. Kea knew many things Sinia didn't, but she could not be in the center of it. Her Blood was wrong. And Voldemort had made clear his choice. Old magic, old magic, but something didn't click quite fully in her head and, try as she might to hold it, the thought was gone in a heartbeat. She could drink herself out of this depression, to live through inebriation the way Tiyrn had after the first Order crumbled. But she had something to live for? ... possibly. Yesterday had been exhausting, today was the first day of classes, and would be no better. She had a strong suspicion that Dumbledore had plans for her. She wouldn't be surprised if Fudge had different ones. She shook her head quietly as she pulled the covers off of her naked body and stood, preparing for the day in the cold, uninspiring predawn. Sirius had left moments ago,  determined not to be caught, and she had mentally watched his retreat into the forest occur without incident. It was her gift, her version of Divination, her personal 'Inner Eye'- to be able to focus on the actions of any single or group of individuals outside of her eyesight at the present moment. She couldn't see the future, nor the past. But she could see the now, and that had always been her use with the marauders.

_I'm going to spend my entire day floating in the obvious,_ her mental chiding forced her to re- take stock. She was standing naked in her bedroom, it was not even seven in the morning, she had not showered and the stone floor was sending chills through her toes. She looked at the clock on the wall, waiting for the second hand to pass the twelve, and as it did, the mantra began... the one thing that had ever proven true of her.

_"Blackwings flies fast_

_Blackwings sees far_

_Blackwings is flawless_

_Yet still bears the scar_

_And what use will you have_

_And what things will you see_

_When you cannot discern_

_The sky from the sea_

_The path before you is narrow_

_Too low and  you'll drown_

Too high and  you're blinded 

_You can't hear the sound_

_You must face before you_

_And ignore the light_

_Set stock in what's before you_

_Never live for the night."_

She smiled at her alarm, then walked over to the dresser, for the first time feeling that something would go right while the sun was still up.

***

Dumbledore was shocked, slightly afraid. But it was early in the breakfast hour, and none of the students were paying attention to the wings that slid dangerously close to their bodies before gracefully pulling out of the way. It was a life and death game of reflexes, and as Sinia walked to the head table staring directly in his eyes, he knew it was meant to be. She was dressed in the semi- standard uniform of the Sorceresses- a simple, well cut blouse with several buttons undone, though Sinia chose to show off her stomach more than her cleavage, and a pair of tight fitting slacks with a pair of boots. She walked up to the head table, unflinching, unrepentant, and pointedly ignoring the stares from certain sections of the table.

"You sent for me, sirrah?"

"Yes, Sinia," he spoke calmly, motioning her closer yet. She came to the other side of the table, and, leaning on her knees, crossed her arms in the space between the grits and bacon, and rested her chin on her wrists. "You know of my words about the dementors yesterday. I will be... otherwise predisposed this year, so I can't watch over the school grounds at any and every given moment. I know this is quite a bit to ask of you, but," he breathed deeply, looking her in the eyes, "I need you to hold them off. They will obey you, I think, far more than they would me, and-"

"I'm a Sorceress, you're a wizard," she finished his sentence in a flat tone.

"Yes."

"Don't rely on me, but I shall. Are they already here?"

"And taxing me."

"I'll begin right away." She stood. "This will decrease my efficiency on our agreement."

"Blackwings," he smiled slightly, "this may be the most important part."


	6. Black Magic

[A/N- THANK YOU to those few of you who are reading this. Any suggestions for more reviews? I'd appreciate. Also, go read The Fear to Fly (sequel) I'm liking how it's coming along.) Tankya!]

They were here.

She could hear it, feel it, almost see it swamping the air. But aura- sight was Keayalnea's gift, not her own. She could, if she focused, pinpoint the location of every Dementor within the area, most of which were within a mile of the grounds. She could see the shaggy black dog trotting down the road to Hogsmeade. She steadied herself before opening the gates. They sensed her- outside of Voldemort, Dementors had only ever answered to Black Blood. But their hatred of her was for that. She could control them, but she could not allow them into her own strength. They would use it against her, and they knew her too well already. She wondered momentarily if she should call Remus, but the magic she was creating was not something she could share. Not something your run of the mill wizards could handle. And she loved Remus dearly, but that's all he was. A wizard. She was a sorceress.

One last deep breath, and she stepped outside the gates, toward a clearing in the forest which was not far. She could see them turn, racing in her direction.

_Fresh meat?_ she chuckled mentally. Then she slammed her eyes shut and called on the energy she knew was there. And it spilled into her, and the spell began. She started to sing.

_"Sucker love is heaven sent_

_You pucker up on passion spent_

_My heart's withdrawn your body's rent_

_My body's broken yours is bent_

_Carve your name into my arm_

_Instead of stressed I lie here charmed_

_Cuz there's nothing else to do..._

_Every me and every you,"_ she bit her lip as they came closer, feeding the energy she put out. She needed to be Kea at the moment, cold, commanding. Calculating. _"SINIA!"_

_"Sucker love a box I choose_

_No other box I choose to use_

_Another love I would abuse _"NO! NO! LET GO OF ME!"

_No circumstances could excuse_

_In the shape of things to come_

_To much poison come undone_

_Cuz there's nothing else to do_

_Every me and every you."_ They were tied in now, close enough to feel her breath, to absorb her pain. Maybe this would work. Maybe. She started feeding through the mental note. _Your boundaries are where I say, and you will obey me, or such are your consequences. What you seek has not come here_. It was now a battle of wills.

_"Sucker love is known to swing_

_Prone to cling and waste these things _"You realize I'll love you forever?"

_Pucker up for heaven's sake_

There's never been so much at stake 

_I serve my head up on a plate _"You can screw around to hell and back I swear I haven't jinxed you and I don't care!"__

_It's only comfort calling late_

_Cuz there's nothing else to do_

_Every me and every you."_ She was winning, slightly. She could feel them moving away. She didn't dare look to find out.

_"Like the naked leads the blind _

_I know I'm selfish I'm unkind_ "Fuck you! Fuck you! FUCK YOU!"__

_Sucker love I always find_

_Someone to bruise and leave behind_

_All alone in space and time_

_There's nothing here, but what's here's mine_

_Something borrowed, something blue_

Every me and every you 

_Every me and every you every me..._

_Every me and every you every me...."_ They were gone. She felt it. Her eyes opened to pure black and her strength gone, she fell. She never even noticed the pair of hands that caught her.

[A/N- yes, I know. It's short, I'm sorry, but life's been hectic and I'm tired. Please read, review, and suggest to friends. I'll write more this weekend, and there'll be a lot of Sorcery magic involved.... maybe even a battle. We shall see.... oh, the song is by Placebo, Every Me and Every You (Single Mix). There will be more of them, believe me.]


	7. Healing in Blood

Sinia woke to the pulsing throb of her own heart, her entire body screaming in aching pain from exhaustion. Intense heat made her breath catch, and her vision clouded, not that she could open her eyes very far. Pressure built her entire body, pushing it into the surface behind her. She moaned quietly, feeling the mattress underneath of her shift with added weight. A hand ran her hair out of her face, gentle and loving, but calloused and decidedly masculine. A cold cloth ran over her eyes and forehead, and she whimpered gratefully for the touch. She felt a pair of lips brush hers, delicately. Startled, she barely managed to kiss him back.

"Rest, love," Sirius whispered to her. "You don't have much strength left."

"Where are we?" her voice cracked, disappeared in the emptiness.

"It's your own mattress, babe. They're not going to find me here- no one saw us, and these rooms aren't on the map. Sleep," he kissed her forehead gently. "I'll take care of you."

With that, he shifted to stand up. She reached out and found his hand. "Stay. Please."

She heard him chuckle, then the mattress creaked again, as she felt his arm around her waist, his body pressed against her side. He nuzzled her neck lightly, tickling her with his breath. "As you wish," he whispered, and she twined her fingers with his. 

Then reality faded.

***

Life passed that way for several days, as the fever broke and Sinia gradually recovered from her own magic. Mental anguish and fear had made the spell more difficult than had actually been necessary, and she was paying for it the hard way.

"Sit up, I have to feed you something," Sirius smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed with a bowl of steaming soup. It smelled delectable.

"Where did you get that?" Sinia asked warily. It would do neither of them any good if Sirius Black were seen roaming the halls of Hogwarts.

"A dog can tickle a pear," he smiled quietly, that smile fading as he looked in her eyes. "It's one in the morning, love. A dog waddled into the kitchen with a note that asked for plenty of soup, muffins, and milk. The house elves put it in a basket for me to carry back. Now eat it."

She rested the bowl on her lap, carefully bringing the first spoonful to her mouth. She swallowed. "It's good."

"I'm glad," the sarcasm dripped off of him. "Now finish it, or do I have to feed you myself?"

"That would be nice," she laughed, bringing another spoonful to her mouth.

***

They stayed together for a week, exchanging conversation back on the same level they had before, where if they weren't having sex, they were conversing on something. One night, Sirius finally had the nerve to broach the subject.

"You never told me... any of us, what Korand did to you after those lessons you missed."

She looked up from where her head was rested on his chest. "Would it have done you any good to know?"

"Sinia, you told me you were in the hospital wing for a week because of Snape!" his voice had risen with his anger.

"You hated him anyway, Sirius. The decision was my own, would it do you any better to know that James knew the truth of it? That he knew after the first time it happened?"

"What?"

"He saw my lesson. He snuck in with his cloak."

"He knew you were getting the shit beat out of you to help us?"

"How do _you_ know?"

"That spell you cast... I saw, Sinia," he fumbled for words. "I saw what you saw, what-"

"What the dementors saw," she finished for him, her eyes seemed to have an icy tinge. "What else?"

"Azkaban. I saw our wedding," he smiled slightly at that, "such as it was." She chuckled dryly.

"I saw your initiation," he tested.

"How would you see that?" she wondered. That was not a particularly horrid memory.

"I just heard the introduction. I couldn't _see_ anything. But all of the sudden the sound just surrounded the forest, and I know that song. I knew it was you." He smiled quietly. "I'd love to actually see it."

"Would you?" she grinned mischievously. She sat up and rolled off the bed, grabbing his hand and dragging him with her.

"Sinia, where are you going...? Sinia!" he ran out into the corridor, following the sound of her laughing. The scent of sandalwood and citrus, sweet and sharp and warm, dangerously erotic, flowed through the air.

_"Don't worry, just go,"_ her voice whispered into his ear. _"No one can see. No one can hear. Follow me."_

[A/N- sorry for the impossible shortness, but the next scene, in my mind, does not fit into this chapter. So you'll have to wait a week while I'm gone. Go review my other stories, since no one has! Make me inclined to write more, I swear! Thank you everybody for the praise (to hear I'm writing something original out of a sight with 83,000+ HP fics on it is an accomplishment!) and THANKS to bluesolipsist for the offer- I'm taking you up on it! Before I for get to ask (and this note gets INSANELY long) does anyone understand the meaning of the title? Also feel free to throw me story ideas. See you in a week!]


	8. Me, Myself, and I

Sirius followed the quickly retreating footsteps down the hallways, terrified of discovery, but at the same time trusting that Sinia would not let him come to harm. Up the stairs, and through the foyer to the great hall. The music was throbbing through the stone- could no one else hear it? - And as he opened the double doors he saw Sinia twirling seductively where the Ravenclaw house table had once sat. Violet and blue lights filled the darkness, and as Sinia approached him, inches from his face, she began to sing.

_"Seven a.m._

_The garbage truck beeps as it backs up_

_And I start my day thinking about what I've thrown away_

_Could I push rewind?_

_The credits traverse, signifying the end_

_But I missed the best part_

_Could we please go back to start?" _He moved with her to the music, their bodies never touching, but oh- so close it was torture. Her eyes bored into his, and for a moment it seemed he was falling into them. Then she was gone, standing defiantly as she sung the words, silver light following the motion of her hands.

_"Forgive my indecision_

_Then again, then again_

_You're always first when no one's on your side_

_But then again, then again_

_A day will come when I want off that rocket."_

He swum in the music, listening to it fade into the background.

_Eleven a.m._

_By now you would think that I would be up_

_But my bed sheets shade the heat of choices I've made_

_And what did I find?_

_I never thought I could want someone so much_

_Cause now you're not here and I'm knee deep in my own fear_

"No no no no LET GO OF ME! _NO!"_

The caped face was inches from her own, reeking of foulness and death. She flung herself away only to be confronted by another, and as she pushed through them to reach the cliffs of Azkaban, she tore her wings open to fly and was tackled to the ground, smothered by dementors, screaming in fear and rage. No escape… none…

_Forgive my indecision_

_I am only a man_

_Then again, then again_

_You're always first when no one's on your side_

_But then again, then again, then again, then again, then again_

_A day will come when I want off that rocket_

"You've been cheating on me again."

"How'd you know?"

"Not many girls have bragging rights to having been shagged four times by the infamous Mr. Black."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "The offer was too good to refuse."

"I never said it wasn't. You just kept wishing it was me."

"No, I- how'd you know?"

"I know you. I don't care."

"What?"

"You've been a very bad dog, Sirius… and I suppose I'll punish you for it later."

_oh..._

Sirius's eyes bored through hers, loving and adoring. Maybe this is what heaven feels like…

_Twelve p.m. and my dusty telephone rings_

_Heavy head up from my pillow, who could it be?_

_I hope it's you_

His hand grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around to kiss her deftly, his fangs biting her lip to make blood flow as she fought out of his embrace. His red eyes flashed with anger…

_oh...._

"What? What? What? What is so important in your life that I can't teach you full moon magic? Have you come down with lycanthropy? Obviously not, you still have wings. You're going to die anyway, so you may as well tell me! Tell me! Tell me!" The back of his hand landed a crushing blow on her cheek.

_Then again, then again_

_You're always first when no one's on your side_

_But then again, then again_

_That day has come and I want off that rocket_

And then she was there, leaning against his shoulder, her arms thrown around his neck. He leaned back into her, and the two stood there for a while, unmoving, no sound save their labored breathing. Neither of them noticed the door click silently shut.

_oh..._

[A/N- hello my cronies! For all my wonderful reviewers, THANK YOU! For bluesolipsist, who has volunteered herself to the torturous job of my beta reader…. I don't know what to say. Thank you so much. *Sniff*. So why was the door open? (OOOH! Cliffie. Let me guess! I bet it… no. I don't know who it was!) Before I forget, the song is eleven AM by Incubus, and besides the fact that it rocks, it just fit Sinia's personality. I had to wiggle it in. It wasn't my fault. I swear! Anyway, here's another length note. And my challenge- extra chapters to whoever can figure out what my theme is! Considering I don't know yet, it means more updates! Guess, damn you!]


	9. In Reality

[A/ N- I should just make you all mad and say that the door wasn't shut all the way. But I'm not going to do that. I'm high on this part of the story, and intend to continue with it for now…. And possibly into tomorrow. Please enjoy. Oh, and the song is the ending theme off of the anime Noir. You need to listen to it anyway, it's just beautiful.]

"How do you do that? I haven't seen you use a wand since fifth year. It was always whispered words and intricate hand motions," Sirius's voice, though quiet, and muffled against her shoulder, rung out in the dark emptiness of the great hall, the stars twinkling eerily above them.

"It's pure magic, as a form of expression," she explained, her own face buried in his hair. "Wizards find it difficult to understand because they find it difficult to do."

"But I could do it, if I chose to do so?"

"Yes. Better than most."

"You're just saying that because of us."

"No… yes," he could feel her chuckle. "The consort of a full- blooded sorceress has full access to her strength. So yes and no. It depends on how you grasp it."

"How do I do it, then?"

"How do you summon a chair?"

"_Accio chair_," she felt him move his wrist in the necessary motion.

"No," her voice was flat. "Wands and incantations won't help you, there's no wand, and no incantation. What are you thinking when you summon a chair?"

"I want the chair to…." He stepped back and looked in her eyes, visible mostly from the starlight's reflection. "_That's_ all it is?"

"I wouldn't use that terminology. It's not simpler. But that's all."

She watched as he closed his eyes and pursed his lips in concentration, hair falling in his face. His hands squeezed hers, and a dull glow, much like candlelight, filled the room. He opened his eyes and looked around in astonishment.

"Exactly," she whispered, her smile almost as bright as the glow in her eyes. 

"You're right. It's not easy," he closed his eyes momentarily and sighed. "Sinia… what are we?"

"How do you mean?"

"Are you my fiancé?  My lover? My wife?" the confusion in his eyes was evident. He hadn't been able to ask for a while.

She looked down for a minute, contemplating. "You are my air," she looked up into his eyes. "That I forget about some days, cling to others. That I need to live, that is inside me, around me, mine and mine alone, yet never so singularly distinctive. I don't care about titles, so long as you're there."

"I never am," he countered.

"Then neither am I. You exist. It's enough."

He closed his eyes and concentrated, and a guitar chord delicately lilted through the air. Sinia's eyes widened in recognition as the song continued.

"You never did tell me what the words mean," he whispered accusingly.

"I don't know," her voice was small, her eyes glossy with tears, as the delicate voice lilted through the air. He reached out to pull her toward him, and she settled her temple against his jaw, and the danced in small circles around the room.

"I owe you a ceremony. This is the best I can do," he kissed her hair gently, as she looked up into his eyes.

"There's a time and a place for everything, Sirius," she buried her head in his shoulder. "I never needed a ceremony."

He sighed quietly, as the song ended. "I hate to go. I have to go. You'll be in trouble if I don't."

"When they get a hold of you, I'm slated for the dementors as well," she whispered. "Why does it matter?"

"Because we are only together in the dark, in secret, in shadow," he looked in her eyes. "I want to kiss you in a crowded street. In daylight. Where someone will see, where someone will witness. I grow tired of waking and wondering if this is a dream."

"One day we will," she smiled quietly. "I give you my word."

"Don't make promises-"

"This one I will keep. I know not when, nor how, nor where. But I will. I love you."

"I you," he replied, kissing her forehead, "Blackwings. What do we do now?"

"Leave, would probably be your best bet," Sinia and Sirius's heads turned automatically to see the snarl on Remus Lupin's face. Sinia's eyes iced over in a possible rebellion. "Snape is just now leaving this general direction."

"How'd you know we were here, Remus?" Sirius asked.

"Marauder's Map. Really, do you think it wouldn't have shown me?"

"Then you would have seen him!" Sirius's eyes lit up with hope.

"Seen who?"

"Peter!"

"Peter's dead, Sirius. You killed him, remember?" Remus was almost shouting. "Or was that a happy memory for you?"

Sirius winced at the words. "Remus… Moony… I can explain."

"I don't want to hear it."

"It's not his fault, Remus," Sinia argued, turning to face him.

"Stay out of this, Sinia. You'd forgive him anything."

"Where do you get that impression?" her voice was ice. "Would it kill you to hear what he says?"

"I've been lied to enough, how would it help me to sit through more of the same?"

"He's not lying."

"How would you know? You're blind to every flaw he has!"

"And you to mine," she snapped. "If you told me the moon was cottage cheese, and it would make me human, by wizarding standards, the next question I would ask you would be how to get there. I trust you both on an equal level- why do you not trust me?"

"He killed James, Sinia!" Remus roared. "When will you see that? He traded Prongs for you!"

"He traded me for Prongs, if that's your belief!" Sinia screamed back. "You were there, Moony! He's egotistic but he wouldn't have put any of us through that!"

"Then why did he accuse me of being a traitor?"

"It was Peter. We didn't know- you thought I was!"

"You had an excuse?"  
"I was engaged."

"You're inventing stories to justify what you're doing, _again_."

"It was Peter, Remus," Sirius's voice was barely audible.

"You need to leave," Remus's voice was cold as ice. "I don't want to see you ever again."

"Even if I'm right?"

"You're not right. You were insanely wrong. Be happy I'm not throwing you to the dementors now, though Snape may have some fun with your girlfriend before that happens. Leave. He's coming."

With that, Remus stormed out of the great hall, and Sirius turned to face Sinia, whose eyes were still trained on the doors.

"He isn't kidding, either. I have to get you out of here." She turned to face him. "This will hurt. Whatever you do, focus on staying in one piece."

"What are we doing?"

She locked his hands with hers and he felt her hands grow warm as magic flowed between them. He suddenly felt lightweight, spacey.

Surreal.

"We're sliding," he heard her whisper.

[A/N- oh, I ain't done yet. You still don't know who it was! You think you know, but I got a lot of plot bunnies for this story up my sleeve!]


	10. To Catch a Murderer

Sinia barely caught Sirius as his heels hit the ground particularly hard, causing him to reel backward. He clutched her shoulders and stood for a moment, the twilight casting a harsh line of shadow on his rigid features. His eyes closed momentarily and his forehead rested against hers. She was gasping, and he raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"You alright?"

"It's harder to do with two people," she exhaled. "Go. The Dementors will be here in a minute."

"Will you be alright?" his grip on her shoulders tightened. She looked him in the eyes and nodded curtly, but she seemed preoccupied. 

"Go," she hissed, and a faded, distant scream was audible to him. It was a voice he recognized.

"One thing," he said, grabbing his knife. She looked at him quizzically, then he walked behind her, and bunching her hair in his fist, sliced it until it only came to her shoulders, scattering what was left in the wind.

"How am I going to explain that to Albus?" she laughed quietly.

"You're not mourning for me any more. Don't you dare let it be long again," he smiled, kissing her quietly before he shifted forms. He saw her wince at some thought, and knew it was becoming difficult for her. Her expression hardened as he shook himself, his skin tingling with the fur that had burst from it. 

"I have to go," she whispered quietly. He nuzzled her hand, and she scratched his ears before he trotted off towards Hogsmeade. In a flash of unwanted vision, Sinia felt her own profile through the trees, and she pivoted to stare directly at the dementor, feeling it feed off of her own anguish, though it was not brave enough to get closer. She backed away, wings spread defensively, and turned to run in the other direction. She wasn't even sure if they were following her. She bypassed the guards at the entrance by bounding over the brick wall and landing heavily on the other side, stumbling to her knees. She gasped slightly with the pain, but it was bearable. She didn't want to be out there. 

Regaining her composure, she kneeled back and took in the view of her prison. Dawn was just beginning to creep over the castle turrets- blood red and foreboding. In her mind's eye, Sinia saw Keayalnea, standing defiantly in a circle of black- robed, faceless figures, eyes blazing, hair matted, blood smeared and dripping down her face, her wings visibly spattered with it. Sinia shook her head ferociously- that was a scene more than twelve years old, a scene she had not even witnessed personally- why would she see Voldemort's denial by the Zenith? She had a momentary flash of understanding- the worst was yet to come. There were a million miles to go before she could rest. With that thought in mind, she stood, brushed herself off, and walked toward the doors, into the great hall, and sat at her corner of the staff table to eat breakfast. Remus steadfastly avoided her while Hagrid tried to make casual conversation, which she answered, politely, but brusque. When she finished, she stood and walked toward Dumbledore's chair. 

"Good morning, Sinia," Dumbledore greeted her between mouthfuls of toast. ""I'm glad you came to speak with me- Cornelius requested a private audience with you after breakfast. He should be in my office as we speak."

"Or as you are speaking. With your mouth full," she smiled quietly, and he beamed back at her. "I have a bad feeling about this, Albus."

"My dear, do you think I would allow harm to come to you here?"

"No, sirrah." She wasn't convinced.

"Very well. Come speak with me after dinner."

"Yes sirrah." She turned to leave.

"And Sinia?"

"Yes."

"That haircut makes you look ten years younger. Please keep it this length, as we have such a shortage of truly beautiful women in the school."

She smiled slightly. "Thank you, sirrah." She turned toward the exit, headed toward the Headmaster's office.

***

Sinia felt like fire was flying through her side as she fell face first into the cold stone floor, struggling back a yelp of pain as onyx cut through her flesh. She felt the black blade sink into her wing, blood oozing across the feathers, sharp stone grinding the hollow bones and delicate ligaments as the blade twisted inside the burning, smoking flesh. It was quickly removed, and he began slashing mercilessly along her spine and ribs. She rolled sideways, throwing Fudge off her back and vulnerable wings, when a foot stomped on the joint of her uninjured wing, causing her to thrash helplessly, vision swimming in red and reeling in pain, and the blade sunk deep into her right side, causing her to let out an ear- splitting scream of pain, and four heads, none of which were too close, jerked at the sound, two recognizing and running toward it instantly. 

"Where is he? I know you've seen him- _where is he?!_" Fudge roared, irate and pushed beyond his temper's limits.

"Fuck you," Sinia snarled, reaching to grab at his face, but the onyx sliced through her hand, and the blade crushed bone, severed tendons, and burned flesh, causing her to scream again, though the blade had begun attacking her face. 

"I thought the dementors would be enough persuasion for you."

"Who do you think they will listen to- a middle aged wizard or a Black Sorceress who has mastered them before?" she spat blood as she glared at him. "You cannot control me- that has been seen to."

"You-" Fudge raised the knife once more, but didn't get far before a white- feathered blur crashed into his side, sending him sprawling away from Sinia. At the same time, the door slammed open, revealing the full fury of Albus Dumbledore.

"CORNELIUS FUDGE!" the wrath of Keayalnea Nikonde was plain as day on her face, contorted into outrage and loathing. She stood, tossing her red hair out of her face. The dagger was gripped tightly, and expertly in her hand. "What right have you to be assaulting my people?" She ran a finger along the blade's edge, barely touching it before her skin began to smoke. She tossed the blade away in disgust.

"Onyx," contempt, unmasked and terrifying, warped her voice and clipped her words. "Onyx. He would red her to death with onyx. I refuse to excuse this, Albus."

"Keayalnea…" the Headmaster's voice was soothing enough, under different circumstances.

"NO!" Keayalnea roared, white wings flaring. "It was decided. It is decided. Tiyrn could not make it here within a week, and I cannot heal these wounds! And _Cornelius Fudge_ is not the name on the documents that Saved her! Neither he, nor you, nor I can do anything regarding her at the present moment. All we have right to do is leave her here to die."

"And who," Albus's voice was infuriatingly calm, "has the authority to determine our course of action now?"

Keayalnea's eyes traveled down to Sinia's frame, noting the shorter hair. She looked Fudge in the eyes, also, noting his fear of punishment. This would be punishment. She turned back to look at Dumbledore. "Sirius Black."

The irony was not lost on her, at least.


	11. Politics and Panties

Fudge let out a squeal reminiscent of a dying pig and a frightened mouse. 

"Leave," Keayalnea's voice was civil ice, "now. I do not recommend you return for quite some time."

With that, he hurried from the attic of the Gryffindor common rooms. 

"I will send someone to find Sirius," Albus turned towards the door. 

"They may not have to look far," Keayalnea levitated Sinia's unconscious body with a sweep of her hand. "He would know her screams."

"Is there nothing we can do?"

"You are not in a position to decide these things Albus, and I am stretching my authority as it is. Get Sirius, and send Cornelius away. Now."

"You presume to control me?" Albus chuckled lightly.

"I presume you do not wish Sinia or the Minister of Magic dead on school grounds today. Nothing more."

"Very well." He stepped out of the portrait hole, pleasantly surprised to see Remus hurrying toward him. He shut the portrait without looking behind him.

"Remus," he silenced the younger man as Remus attempted to speak. "I need you to go find Sirius. And it is critically important that you do so with all possible speed."

Remus shut his mouth, glaring angrily at his former headmaster, before spinning on his heel and walking away. Albus sighed- Remus wasn't happy, but he'd do as asked without questions. His ears caught a rustle behind him.

"Severus, outside of my pleasant shock to see you this high above ground, I'm afraid you will try something rash, and I must warn you against it. He will be under the sanctuary of a higher power than the Minister or myself during his stay. And I would not try her temper."

With that, he left the potions master to his own thoughts.

***

Keayalnea was struggling. Not so much with Sinia's weight- the girl was skinny as a rail, and besides, if Keayalnea couldn't levitate one of her charges, she had no right to call herself the Zenith of SphynxFyre. No, angling around corners, furniture, doors, and down stairs were the difficult parts. She pushed the portrait open, levitating Sinia through, and closed it as she continued toward the infirmary. Her mind was several steps ahead of her current situation when the voice stopped her.

"You look like you could use some assistance."

She turned to face him, face tense, eyebrow raised. She shook her hair out of her face, and he suddenly had a vision of that face, torn to ribbons, bleeding, bruised, and brutally defiant.

He'd seen her somewhere before.

"If I needed your help, I would have asked for it." She spat. "Or are you really such a fucking dumbass as to waste perfectly good chivalry on me, idiot?"

"Well, excuse me then, miss. But I am not an idiot." His voice dripped sarcasm as much as hers, just as venomous, but his voice was low, the words hissed and dangerous.

"Excuse me then," she grinned, vindictively. "For not being an idiot, you are quite stupid."

"Watch your bounds, _miss_. I'd hate to leave you a crying mess on the floor. Heaven knows what might _find_ you."

A peal of laughter escaped her, and she tossed her hair. "Well, _Severus_, whatever it is that finds me, I would hope it won't be you. For if you are not an idiot, and if you are not stupid, you are quite the ass."

With that, she turned on her heel and continued her trek to the infirmary. 

***

Remus was walking down the entrance hall when he spotted the dog, but not before the dog spotted him. Sirius barreled towards him at a breakneck pace, transforming midleap, and pinning a shocked Remus against the wall, growling low in his throat the entire time. 

"WHERE'S SINIA?!" he was loud enough to wake the dead. "WHERE'S MY FUCKING WIFE?!"

"I don't know, Sirius." Remus would never remember how he had managed to stay civil. "Dumbledore just sent me to find you." Realization dawned on his face. "Wait… you. Why did you shred the Fat Lady's portrait?"

"She wouldn't let me in- I didn't know the password. But I had to get in, Remus, I had to!" he stepped back from the shorter man. "Sinia was up there. She was screaming her lungs out. She's hurt somewhere, again…" he turned away, blinking back tears. "Remus, where is she?"

"The infirmary by now, though I doubt that will help her much," Dumbledore's voice sang through the air behind them. Sirius spun, backing against the wall defensively. Albus chuckled. "You are under Keayalnea's protection for the time being, Sirius. Hurry." Albus's voice was edged with an anger that Sirius had never heard before, almost as though he resented Keayalnea's presence. 

Sirius, however, was too busy running up the stairs to pay attention.

***

He stopped at the doorway, suddenly, hanging off the frame. Keayalnea glanced up at him as she continued to wash the blood off of Sinia's face and arms.

"It won't kill her if you sit, and it would make this easier to explain."

He did as she asked, pulling up a chair next to the bed. Hearing a sloshing sound below him, he looked down, quickly withdrawing his foot from the puddle of blood on the floor. 

"She's stopped bleeding," Keayalnea interjected, noting he'd opened his mouth. "Fudge snuck an onyx blade into the grounds, and he attacked her with it. I'm here to fulfill her duties while she's indisposed."

"What happened?"

I expected better from you. No one knows, save her and Fudge. The question is in the onyx."

"What about it?"

"Onyx is the only element that can severely wound a sorceress. These are not in my power to heal- there is only one person who can, and he is predisposed for a week at least."

"Madam Pomfrey…"

"Wizard medicine will not work on sorcery wounds. Nothing and no one here knows the remedies she needs."

"So what can we do?"

"You are her Savior, therefore you are the only one who can make a decision in this matter. I do not know if she could survive the week's wait. Her temperature will rise, she will grow delirious, and the sores will break open at intervals. They will blister and the skin will burn away. Shortly afterward that flesh will become infected and rot. It is a painful process. So you have three options- we can end her life now, leave her here and pray for Tiyrn's early return, or we can attempt to save her using the resources we have available. Which may kill her."

"Could we not just owl Tiyrn for instructions?"

"Not in his present situation, no. As calloused as this will seem to you, in your biased state, her life is not worth enough to risk his, when she may already be past saving. Come find me when you've made your decision." She turned to leave, then stopped, as though forgetting something. "You are under my protection during your stay here, and should she die, it would remain that way. You understand the implications."

He nodded solemnly.

"Don't parade your immunity- the fewer notice your presence, the better. I'll give you your privacy." With that, she left.

Sirius sat for a moment, contemplating. If Sinia died, he would be free. Such a cost for such a desired thing. He looked at the pale, wasted figure on the bed. Her skin had sallowed, the nicks and gashes on her face having darkened to a blackish, rotted purple, circled by an inflamed reddish- pink area. He ran his hands down her arms, surveying the damage, and meticulously avoiding the pained sores. A small whimper escaped her, and he looked up into her eyes- panic-stricken, but the same old grey. He reached to take her uninjured hand into his own,  squeezing lightly.

"What happened to you, babydoll?"

"Fudge tried to bully me into giving you up. I owled him, and he didn't like my information."

"What was it?"

"Fudge can only return you to Azkaban, so long as I am alive. He tried to remove that obstacle, but he didn't think that Keayalnea has powers to override him in the event of my death."

He nodded. "I'm not going back to Azkaban." There was a harsh note in her voice that she had never expected to hear again.

"Then kill me. Keayalnea despises you, but she'd protect you to spite Fudge."

"You know that isn't a valid option."

"You may not have the option. The last time onyx was used on a sorceress was twelve years ago- Keayalnea was attacked three days after me, and the sores were still raw when she got me out of Azkaban." The fear was plain on her face.

"Tiyrn will be here in a week. She doesn't think you'll last that long."

"Not surprising. Death and taxes aside, what options do we have?"

"Sit and do nothing, or sit and try to fix it."

"Neither is a good option."

"No," he hung his head, staring out the window. "What should I do?"

"If you want me to hold on, I'll try. The rest is up to you."

He chuckled quietly, squeezing her hand. "Why did you never tell me it went through?"

"What? … oh." Realization dawned on her face. "There was never really a good moment. Besides, I can't keep you out of Azkaban."

"I wasn't worried about that- I remember the stipulations." He smiled at her, genuinely, if subdued. "It's just a piece of good news." He pulled the blanket up, noticing her shiver. "So after twelve years, love, do I still have to buy your underwear?" he arched one eyebrow, his mischievous grin inches from her face.

"Yes," she craned her neck to kiss him. "You do."

"I would hope that after all this time, woman, you would have learned how to walk into a lingerie store, select items of an appropriate size, hand the cashier money, and leave," the sarcasm was dripping, blunted by his crooked smile. "Not that a wanted fugitive would have to do so for you."

"I _like_ the stuff you get me," she smiled meekly.

"And I like getting it. Almost as much as I like seeing you in it." He shifted his weight onto his forearms, resting his upper body over hers, foreheads touching. "But it would be nice to be surprised once in a while."

"I never got the chance to. Besides, you'd get jealous."

"Probably," he brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead. "Probably. You rest, I'll be back later."

"All right," she smiled, turning her head to sleep.

"Hey," he nipped her ear to get her attention. "You realize that when you're well, you have twelve years of modeling to make up for?"

That brought a genuine laugh out of her.


	12. My Face, My Mask

[A/N- be afraid. Be terrified.]

"You!" the syllable spat itself out of her mouth before she even had the chance to form a half- coherent thought. He raised his ugly black head from his desk to look in her eyes, and smirked.

"Last time I checked, I was myself…"

"Keayalnea."

"Keayalnea?" the last time he had seen her was twelve years ago, and she had been a bundle of rebellious niavete. Time had filled her figure, sharpened her tongue, and froze the fire in her eyes. She was still beautiful. He still couldn't tolerate her.

"Yes, Keayalnea. Keayalnea Nikonde? The one you kept making obscene red- head jokes about? The one you said woul never last as the Zenith? The one you tried to save? Yeah, Keayalnea." She had come closer during her tirade. He could see the faint scar running from her jawline to her collarbone. He thought it would have been gone by now. She snorted. "Albus _has_ to be going senile. He told me his potions master would be the perfect man for what I needed. I never thopught it'd be you. Screw it. Screw it." She flung up her hands and spun, the palm of her right hand smacking the surface of a desk, causing a loud bang. Quite to his surprise, she buckled to her knees at the impact, letting out a strangled yelp. He rushed towards her, without completely thinking, grabbing her wrist and pulling the offending fist open, staring at the mauling he faced. It looked as though she'd been sliced with a burning, poisoned blade that hadn't been treated for a week. He was about to reprimand her for it when he noticed a small shard of black stone lodged in the decaying flesh and oozing blood and puss. With the utmost care, he nimbly picked the shard out, and letting go of her hand, held it up to his face to study it.

"You've suffered worse at the edge of onyx."

"That blade was purified. Voldemort was running off a hunch."

"By all means, continue to believe that. How did you find yourself on the sharp side of it? Which leads me to my next question- why are you here?"

"You ask that as though I have the option of leaving. Sinia was attacked and I managed to intervene. I'm here for the duration of her recovery. Or lack thereof."  
"I would like more specific information, such as why you are here, in my presence."

"The only person with the skills to heal Sinia- whom will look like this, given a few days, cannot make it here for nine. Any one of the gouges she has can kill her, untreated, in that span of time. So Albus sent me to offer you a challenge.

"That being?"

"To reinvent a cure or forestallment for onyx on sorcery blood."

He took her hand again, pointedly ignoring her glare as he pried the fingers open, and forced her to follow him as he sat at his desk, she leaning over the paperwork- strewn wood. He held her palm with both hands, gently forcing the sore flesh apart for his inspection. She gawked at his profile, stunned at the kindness in his touch and curious to its source. He did not notice, and liften his head to face her, their noses almost brushing backwards in the process. She jerked backward, startled, only to have him grip her hand harder, his nails digging into the sore flesh, and she gasped in pain, biting back tears.

He automatically shifted his grip from her hand to encircle her wrist, pulling her along with him toward his office. 

"I cannot concoct any potion from plant, animal, or extract that will heal this. Are you aware that I know little, if anything, about chakra and gemstone healing?"

"Healing is an art you were never gifted in to begin with."

"Why did Albus send you here? Why not Poppy?"

"Tiyrn began your training in sorcery medicine twelve years ago. You have a fundamental understanding of it- Poppy is trying to convince me to let her loose on Sinia with Pepper- Up."

Severus let out a vindictive snort.

"She also couldn't learn within the time frame we have set. And I doubt that she'd make it through the testing."

He dropped her hand and turned, glaring down at her. "Tell me now, exactly what I'm getting into."

"The cure Tiyrn found for onyx varies according to the age and depth of the wounds inflicted. You have four days and a test subject before we have to start over."

"How bad is she?"

She took a step back and sighed, closing her eyes as a delicate blue light covered her like a curtain, blazing near- white along her cheek, parts of her wings, sides, and back, and her hand.

"They're less than yours."

"Bad enough," she replied, the spell fading away.

"You realize there is no way I can relieve any of the pain you will feel?"

"Quite."

"And you trust me to do this?"

"Not in the least. It's not my decision."

"Obviously, as you'd rather be anywhere else this moment."

"I could kill you right now, and some would claim I was justified in doing so."

"I apologize," with their height difference, her stp- high leverage made them nearly equal. "For what happened to you. Had I any ideawhat he was doing, I would have stopped it."

"No, you wouldn't," she smirked. "Are you proud to be one of the few who knows what I actually look like?"

"I never thought he'd go after your face. I didn't dream he'd get that far." His eyes, as black as the stone that brought them here, betrayed nothing. 

"Well," her voice was clipped, her jaw tensed with barely controlled anger and hurt. "You're not very good at your job, are you?"

***

It hurt. But her eyes were closed, and floating in and out of consciousness, it was somewhat lessened. It was the smell that kept her awake- it was faint, but she got these consistant wiffs of it, and it scared her. The smell of feces, decay, the smell of death. The smell of Azkaban. Trapped in the black walls of her own consciousness, not seeing the limits of her prison. Suddenly a pair of eyes, a thousand times larger than life, appeared in front of her. Inverted, the whites prich black and the pupils a shade of blue she would never define, bored into her. Through her. And deep within the recesses of Sinia's own consciousness, she screamed.

***

Before Severus could even open his mouth to reply, Keayalnea's eyes widened, and with a strangled obscenity, she raced back up the stairwell. He followed, infuriated by her sudden dismissal. 

Keayalnea had never run so fast in her life. Out of the dungeons, through the hallways, out the door, to the gate of the school grounds, which had starved dementors swarming around it in hopes of getting at the confusion and fear inside.

"No!" she roared, flinging herself at the iron bars, wings at full spread, every ounce of concentration forcing them back. But it was worthless. They were too starved.

It happened so quickly that she barely registered it, as little control as she had over her distant cousins. But the gate broke, throwing her backwards while the dementors poured in, , at least a hundred of them.

Severus understood the fundamental difference between Sinia and Keayalnea in that moment, Whereas Sinia would cower under the weight of the dementors' power, Keayalnea rose up in defiance of it.

She didn't really think about it. There wasn't time. The first one's throat was in her hands, and she slung him out the gate, forcing it shut and holding it with a cheap spell- however long that would last. She hissed as her sword materialized in her hand and slung it into the gut of the next one, flinging it over the wall. She continued in this fashion, gutting, decapitating, and tripping dementors left and right, heaving them over the stone wall until there was only one left. She slung the sword away, the spell vaporizing as quickly as it had come, and walked toward the dementor with a determination reserved for the damned. Without thought, she reached up and kissed it hard on the mouth. Severus's eyes widened in shock at the suicidal gesture, and he half stepped forward, when two figures burst from the pair, two birds, one black, one white, then the two melded together to form one red outline, bright as blood, that faded into the night sky. When he looked down, he saw a cloaked figure, kneeling, flaming red hair brushing the ground, white wings trembling visibly even at that distance. Her face was mauled past anything he could have imagined, the cartilage of her nose chopped off, part of one nostril clinging defiantly to the empty air, a deathly grey scar slicing over her eye socket, the eye glazed eerily white, the cheekbone crushed into a shapeless mass. The opposite eyebrow was missing, as well as a huge chunk of her lower lip and much of her jawbone. Her ears were mangled, ripped into shreds half their original size, with jagged, poorly healed red scars running in random patterns across her face. He had a flashback to that moment where the bonfire blazed and dozens of death eaters crowded together, earpiercing screams ringing through the darkness and laughter.

His eyes locked with hers as her face slowly transformed to the one he knew her better by. "How I have failed you," he whispered, but the words were lost with the wind.


	13. My Face, My Mask

[A/N- this is a double post from the last chapter, due to ff.net's stupid author's note thingie. I apologize for the scattered updates, but I am currently attempting to create a harry potter fic archive of my own. Wish me luck!]

"You!" the syllable spat itself out of her mouth before she even had the chance to form a half- coherent thought. He raised his ugly black head from his desk to look in her eyes, and smirked.

"Last time I checked, I was myself…"

"Keayalnea."

"Keayalnea?" the last time he had seen her was twelve years ago, and she had been a bundle of rebellious niavete. Time had filled her figure, sharpened her tongue, and froze the fire in her eyes. She was still beautiful. He still couldn't tolerate her.

"Yes, Keayalnea. Keayalnea Nikonde? The one you kept making obscene red- head jokes about? The one you said woul never last as the Zenith? The one you tried to save? Yeah, Keayalnea." She had come closer during her tirade. He could see the faint scar running from her jawline to her collarbone. He thought it would have been gone by now. She snorted. "Albus _has_ to be going senile. He told me his potions master would be the perfect man for what I needed. I never thopught it'd be you. Screw it. Screw it." She flung up her hands and spun, the palm of her right hand smacking the surface of a desk, causing a loud bang. Quite to his surprise, she buckled to her knees at the impact, letting out a strangled yelp. He rushed towards her, without completely thinking, grabbing her wrist and pulling the offending fist open, staring at the mauling he faced. It looked as though she'd been sliced with a burning, poisoned blade that hadn't been treated for a week. He was about to reprimand her for it when he noticed a small shard of black stone lodged in the decaying flesh and oozing blood and puss. With the utmost care, he nimbly picked the shard out, and letting go of her hand, held it up to his face to study it.

"You've suffered worse at the edge of onyx."

"That blade was purified. Voldemort was running off a hunch."

"By all means, continue to believe that. How did you find yourself on the sharp side of it? Which leads me to my next question- why are you here?"

"You ask that as though I have the option of leaving. Sinia was attacked and I managed to intervene. I'm here for the duration of her recovery. Or lack thereof."  
"I would like more specific information, such as why you are here, in my presence."

"The only person with the skills to heal Sinia- whom will look like this, given a few days, cannot make it here for nine. Any one of the gouges she has can kill her, untreated, in that span of time. So Albus sent me to offer you a challenge.

"That being?"

"To reinvent a cure or forestallment for onyx on sorcery blood."

He took her hand again, pointedly ignoring her glare as he pried the fingers open, and forced her to follow him as he sat at his desk, she leaning over the paperwork- strewn wood. He held her palm with both hands, gently forcing the sore flesh apart for his inspection. She gawked at his profile, stunned at the kindness in his touch and curious to its source. He did not notice, and liften his head to face her, their noses almost brushing backwards in the process. She jerked backward, startled, only to have him grip her hand harder, his nails digging into the sore flesh, and she gasped in pain, biting back tears.

He automatically shifted his grip from her hand to encircle her wrist, pulling her along with him toward his office. 

"I cannot concoct any potion from plant, animal, or extract that will heal this. Are you aware that I know little, if anything, about chakra and gemstone healing?"

"Healing is an art you were never gifted in to begin with."

"Why did Albus send you here? Why not Poppy?"

"Tiyrn began your training in sorcery medicine twelve years ago. You have a fundamental understanding of it- Poppy is trying to convince me to let her loose on Sinia with Pepper- Up."

Severus let out a vindictive snort.

"She also couldn't learn within the time frame we have set. And I doubt that she'd make it through the testing."

He dropped her hand and turned, glaring down at her. "Tell me now, exactly what I'm getting into."

"The cure Tiyrn found for onyx varies according to the age and depth of the wounds inflicted. You have four days and a test subject before we have to start over."

"How bad is she?"

She took a step back and sighed, closing her eyes as a delicate blue light covered her like a curtain, blazing near- white along her cheek, parts of her wings, sides, and back, and her hand.

"They're less than yours."

"Bad enough," she replied, the spell fading away.

"You realize there is no way I can relieve any of the pain you will feel?"

"Quite."

"And you trust me to do this?"

"Not in the least. It's not my decision."

"Obviously, as you'd rather be anywhere else this moment."

"I could kill you right now, and some would claim I was justified in doing so."

"I apologize," with their height difference, her stp- high leverage made them nearly equal. "For what happened to you. Had I any ideawhat he was doing, I would have stopped it."

"No, you wouldn't," she smirked. "Are you proud to be one of the few who knows what I actually look like?"

"I never thought he'd go after your face. I didn't dream he'd get that far." His eyes, as black as the stone that brought them here, betrayed nothing. 

"Well," her voice was clipped, her jaw tensed with barely controlled anger and hurt. "You're not very good at your job, are you?"

***

It hurt. But her eyes were closed, and floating in and out of consciousness, it was somewhat lessened. It was the smell that kept her awake- it was faint, but she got these consistant wiffs of it, and it scared her. The smell of feces, decay, the smell of death. The smell of Azkaban. Trapped in the black walls of her own consciousness, not seeing the limits of her prison. Suddenly a pair of eyes, a thousand times larger than life, appeared in front of her. Inverted, the whites prich black and the pupils a shade of blue she would never define, bored into her. Through her. And deep within the recesses of Sinia's own consciousness, she screamed.

***

Before Severus could even open his mouth to reply, Keayalnea's eyes widened, and with a strangled obscenity, she raced back up the stairwell. He followed, infuriated by her sudden dismissal. 

Keayalnea had never run so fast in her life. Out of the dungeons, through the hallways, out the door, to the gate of the school grounds, which had starved dementors swarming around it in hopes of getting at the confusion and fear inside.

"No!" she roared, flinging herself at the iron bars, wings at full spread, every ounce of concentration forcing them back. But it was worthless. They were too starved.

It happened so quickly that she barely registered it, as little control as she had over her distant cousins. But the gate broke, throwing her backwards while the dementors poured in, , at least a hundred of them.

Severus understood the fundamental difference between Sinia and Keayalnea in that moment, Whereas Sinia would cower under the weight of the dementors' power, Keayalnea rose up in defiance of it.

She didn't really think about it. There wasn't time. The first one's throat was in her hands, and she slung him out the gate, forcing it shut and holding it with a cheap spell- however long that would last. She hissed as her sword materialized in her hand and slung it into the gut of the next one, flinging it over the wall. She continued in this fashion, gutting, decapitating, and tripping dementors left and right, heaving them over the stone wall until there was only one left. She slung the sword away, the spell vaporizing as quickly as it had come, and walked toward the dementor with a determination reserved for the damned. Without thought, she reached up and kissed it hard on the mouth. Severus's eyes widened in shock at the suicidal gesture, and he half stepped forward, when two figures burst from the pair, two birds, one black, one white, then the two melded together to form one red outline, bright as blood, that faded into the night sky. When he looked down, he saw a cloaked figure, kneeling, flaming red hair brushing the ground, white wings trembling visibly even at that distance. Her face was mauled past anything he could have imagined, the cartilage of her nose chopped off, part of one nostril clinging defiantly to the empty air, a deathly grey scar slicing over her eye socket, the eye glazed eerily white, the cheekbone crushed into a shapeless mass. The opposite eyebrow was missing, as well as a huge chunk of her lower lip and much of her jawbone. Her ears were mangled, ripped into shreds half their original size, with jagged, poorly healed red scars running in random patterns across her face. He had a flashback to that moment where the bonfire blazed and dozens of death eaters crowded together, earpiercing screams ringing through the darkness and laughter.

His eyes locked with hers as her face slowly transformed to the one he knew her better by. "How I have failed you," he whispered, but the words were lost with the wind.


End file.
